


With Benefits

by occasional_boy_reporter



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Stair Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27981126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter
Summary: Andal and Zavala celebrate in private and stumble a little further past 'work friends'.
Relationships: Andal Brask/Zavala
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	With Benefits

**Author's Note:**

> I have a thing for Andal/Zavala. Is there a ton of evidence to support it? Naw. Do I think it would be neat? Heck yeah. The commander with his first Hunter Vanguard fuck buddy lmao.

Zavala surveys the City from his balcony, as he does every night before bed, and finds comfort in the orderly rows of soft lights. In contrast, the wild victory party still rages several stories above and he chuckles softly to himself as he browses for white noise on his portable radio- an act that has also become ritual for nights like these.

He nearly drops the radio in surprise when a body plummets down in front of him. He's barely had time to shout and lean over the rail when the dark blur rises back up suddenly and nearly smacks Zavala in the face.

"Sorry," laughs his drop-in guest as he uses his grip on the rail to haul himself up to a standing position but remains on the wrong side of the safety rail- back to the City- and acts perfectly nonchalant about hanging more than twenty stories in the air. "I thought you were one more floor down. Harder to tell from the outside of the Tower."

Zavala takes a beat to catch his breath. He'd been sure that was a partying Guardian about to splat on the concrete below and he has to pull himself back from disaster mode. Finally, he snaps, "What the devil are you doing?" 

Andal Brask grins with the force and satisfaction of a proud child. "Bringing you a nightcap!" 

The Hunter Vanguard brandishes three bottles as soon as they materialize from his Ghost's storage. Zavala huffs but his lips quirk despite his disapproval.

"There were refreshment vigilantes at the celebration?" 

"Yup!" Andal tosses his hood off with a shake of his head. It's clear he's been chaperoning and partying equally hard. Wispy hairs at his neck and temples are curled with sweat. "Never seen so many Guardians trying to spike some punch! These are just the big ones."

Zavala takes one of the offered bottles and turns it in his palm as Andal leans casually over the railing with one foot swinging idly out over the City. The alcohol is not top shelf but a quality brand Zavala recognizes. He hums. At least their errant Guardians have good taste.

"You like that one? Take it."

Zavala blinks at the bottle and then the man loitering so dangerously on his balcony. "I couldn't."

"Sure you can." Andal finally throws a leg over the rail. Two glasses materialize in his hand as he slips into Zavala's space. With a little juggling and holding the other two bottles clamped under his arm, he takes the bottle from the Commander's hands, pops the top, and pours two messy glasses before offering one. "You're in your pjs. You can't get more off duty than that. Unless you're also drinking."

Zavala runs a hand over the lapel of his robe as he debates.

Andal has always had a way about him. An infectious love of life that bubbles like the bright liquid in the offered glass. It's only more obvious now that Andal has a yet unspecified number of drinks in him and his usual business-appropriate temperance has vanished. Zavala has always been strangely weak to this sort of open charm. 

"A little indulgence won't hurt," the Commander agrees.

"That's the spirit!"

The glitter of victory in dark eyes is enough to make Zavala feel he's already tipsy himself. Zavala smiles and he drinks.

*

They're two bottles down. Zavala's preferred brand and the bottle of whiskey Andal cracked next are empty and discarded next to sprawling legs and tucked knees as the men sit and enjoy their confiscated goods in the cooling night air. They float and laugh easily about the events of the day, the victory that lead to the racous party above, the results of the latest competitive Crucible season. Zavala's little radio plays whatever station Andal had settled on for them. It's getting more difficult to hear the lyrics with the soft cotton stretched across his mind so Zavala stops paying them any mind at all and only remembers the music exists when Andal stops mid sentence to sing along with a song now and again.

The previous Vanguard worked together well enough but the new guard...Zavala dares to think they are friends. Which is probably why he feels a little guilty about the way his eyes keep drifting to those little curls that twist toward Andal's flushed cheeks. Even more guilty about the butterflies that stir in his belly each time Andal licks his own lips. 

"Why do you always leave the parties so early?"

It takes a moment for his heated, fuzzy brain to piece together the words that came out of the lips he'd been so intently watching.

"I'm a dud," Zavala answers easily enough. "It's good to show up and praise everyone for a job well done but then I'm just a reminder of duty."

Andal's drunken frown is as big as his drunken smile and he responds with heavy conviction. "You're wrong."

Zavala can't do more than shrug in response. "That's the way it feels."

"You should stay next time. You're good company."

Zavala blushes at a compliment that's hardly even that and stares at the orderly lights below them. Andal is not done though and the Hunter Vanguard leans over to bump his shoulder into Zavala's.

"I've never seen you dance. You think you're drunk enough to show me what it looks like?"

Zavala's laugh bursts into the air making a little puff of white. It's gotten so cold but neither man has noticed. Andal has steadily been shedding layers of clothing and even Zavala's thin robe seems stifling the longer they drink.

"There isn't enough whiskey in the City," Zavala smirks.

They laugh together, eyes locked through the mirth until the warmth in Zavala's chest becomes unbearable and he drops his gaze.

Surely it is pure coincidence that Andal resettles at the same time and his legs fall in an easy sprawl the same time Zavala's eyes pass over his crotch.

Andal sports an erection. Andal catches the Commander's stare before he can look away.

"Sorry. Whiskey makes me frisky."

It's not terribly funny and Andal presents it more as fact but Zavala chuckles anyway.

"It doesn't bother me."

Andal, then, does nothing to hide the bulge against his thigh.

Zavala does his best not to gravitate back to it. Silence stretches and Zavala takes another swig from their third bottle more for something to do than any desire to drink. He shuffles, limbs tingling with something less external than the cold and something more damning than alcohol. The safest thing to do is call it.

"Thank you for the visit. Can I walk you to the door or would you prefer to leave the way you came?"

The Hunter Vanguard giggles and it's like Arc coursing through Zavala's skin.

Zavala jolts to his feet and stumbles almost as quickly,

Andal catches him. His erection pokes hard and hot against the Awoken's hip. "Sorry, whiskey makes me-"

"You said that," Zavala wheezes.

Andal kisses him with lips, tongue, and teeth.

*

They try to make it to bed but the loft style stairs thwart them. They tumble into them instead, Zavala landing on his back and forgoing any sound of pain as he drags Andal down for another wet and bruising kiss.

"Can I put my mouth on you?" Andal begs against puffy, slick lips. He means anywhere, everywhere, but his brain can't find the word for the thing he wants.

Hands are already smoothing his robe up over his thighs and playing at the hem of his sleep shorts so Zavala is no better with language at the moment and just nods.

Andal goes straight for the waistband and whistles cheekily when Zavala's cock swings free. The Hunter Vanguard stuffs blue flesh into his mouth like a dog with an oversized bone- messy and loud and everything but the wagging tail.

Andal drools over it and sucks and licks with single-mindedness. But the longer he works, the clearer an issue becomes. Zavala can't get hard.

A lingering suck is like a parting apology. Andal's face twists in chagrin. "We probably had a little too much."

Even if his intent is to be kind, the fact that Andal is still rock hard does not escape either of them.

"I still want to do this." Zavala licks his own fingers with the same enthusiasm Andal had lavished on the Awoken's dick and then plays them over the furl of his hole.

Andal blinks as he watches his Commander finger himself draped over the stairs, robe parted and shorts hanging from his ankle. Every one of those things sits like a fresh shot of whiskey in the Hunter's belly.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

*

The Titan is dry and tight and Andal tries to take his time opening the man up with shallow thrusts. Andal spits on their joining a couple times just to make it easier. Zavala doesn't take it as insult- instead he squirms only a second in surprise before bucking down and trying to take Andal further. The stairs above his head creak when Zavala latches onto them.

Arms high and tight puts the expanse of blue pecs on prominent display and Andal cannot stop himself from leaning over to mouth at them before kissing down fluttering ribs and back up again as he picks up the pace of his hips. Teeth tease at a pebbled nipple and Zavala breathes into it. Eyes roll into the back of his head and he releases one hand from the stairs above to pinch at the nipple not in Andal's mouth.

"You like that don't you?" Andal mumbles when his tongue gets in the way- too eager to keep licking as he pushes on the back of Zavala's thighs to bend him in half and fuck deeper. "That's good. Keep touching yourself. Pinch your tits for me, Zavala."

The Awoken's eyes flutter and the lines around his mouth tighten as if he might protest. But he does as Andal suggests. He pinches and tugs until the nipple is rigid and flushed and Andal sucks on its twin either to outdo or in a misguided attempt to soothe- even Andal doesn't know which.

Neither does Andal have time to stop and inspect his motivation because something wonderful is happening. Zavala's hardening cock is slapping against his stomach with every one of Andal's thrusts.

"I think you like that a lot," Andal croons. "Do it again for me."

Zavala does.

*

Zavala is, surprisingly, the first to come. He braces against the stairs- requiring both hands to keep locked in place and whimpers as Andal pounds harder in response to the sudden clench around him. Andal hauls the Awoken into better position, half lunges with feet spread several stairs apart and pistons in and out until thick ropes of come smack against a heaving blue chest. Andal follows with a strangled curse and almost slips from the stairs as his strength gives out. He manages to land more or less in Zavala's lap and forced himself to be content with the awkward position until he either finds the energy to move or until the Awoken asks him to get lost.

Their ragged breath bounces around the otherwise silent bubble of space surrounding them.

"Are we still friends?"

Zavala's cheeks and ears are flushed and Andal isn't sure it was the sex that did that, but rather the embarrassment of asking such a raw question.

Andal smiles but does not dare laugh. "Of course."

"But...," Zavala's blush manages to worsen as he proposes, "...maybe with benefits?"

The Hunter Vanguard leans up for a sweet kiss. "All the benefits you want, my friend."


End file.
